WEN: 2260EE
Exhibitor Name: Jeshua Wickham
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
Henry then tossed young Luke into the air, caught the squealing child again, and, setting him down, gravely shook hands with him, like a man. He kissed little Faith, a rosy, quiet, little girl of five, and then moved on to his other sisters. Sallie May, and Anna both were openly weeping. Charlotte, with a toss of her brown braids, gave him a fierce hug, but shed no tears. Why should she? Henry was going on an adventure, and he would be back. She only wished she could come too. Despite all his dear mother’s efforts, Lottie was most decidedly a tomboy. Her brown cheeks were freckled from the sun, for she never wore a hat or bonnet, and her hair was always flying about in a wild mess. She doted on her big brothers, particularly Henry, and had often scared the family out of their wits with her freakish pranks. Often, their neighbor Tom, who was one to two years older than she, would join her in these. The pair were the scourge of the neighborhood. Any of the children in school who were stuck up, rude, or mean soon found themselves taught a lesson. This included putting grasshoppers in prim Eliza’s lunchbox, daring Samuel Martin to sit up in the scarred oak tree all night, and playing numerous naughty tricks on the unwitting school bully, Ross. Secretly, Henry sympathized with the irrepressible Lottie, and usually sided with her against her disapproving older sisters. Lastly he reached his mother. She smiled bravely up at her tall son, twisting her wrinkled handkerchief around and around in her hands. In a voice choked with unshed tears she said, “Farewell, my dear boy. May our good God bring you safely back home. I do not think I could bear it were I to lose you too,” she ended with a sob. And he knew she was thinking of Jonathan, his twin, who had been drowned when they were both young. Though the whole family mourned Jonathan, it was his mother who had suffered most. However, she was not one to let her grief bear her down, and was soon up and about, making the home cheerful for her family. Life for Henry was never the same without his twin brother. And he knew it would be a dreadful blow for his mother to lose him too. With a last wave and goodbye, he turned and strode down the dirt road, heading towards the town. At the bend in the path he turned around for a last glance at the old farmhouse. It stood there, nestled comfortably in the trees, exuding warmth and comfort, and memories of bygone days. Momentarily he wondered if it would ever be the same when he came back. But quickly he dismissed the thought, and setting his face resolutely, stepped out of sight beyond the bend. The next chapter of his life had begun. . . . . .
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